You and the Horse an Alternate Plot Line
by Voyager Tip
Summary: What if McCormick actually did manage to get a job after Hardcastle threw him out? How would they have gotten back together? Would Hardcastle's superior attitude on the phone have hurt Mark's pride, preventing him from returning? This starts after their fight, with Mark already having found a job.
1. The Job

Ch 1 The Job

Mark entered the employee's entrance of the warehouse and punched in. He hung up his jacket and pulled on a pair of work gloves.

"Hey McCormick?" his boss asked, waving him over.

"Yeah Sid?"

"Ron just called out sick, can you drive a fork truck?"

Mark hesitated, he'd never actually driven a forklift of any kind, but, he hadn't gotten as far as he had due to a lack of risk taking.

"Sure," he said, even as it occurred to him that that type of strategy hadn't really helped him all that much in his past.

He followed Sid to the fork truck and climbed in, listening to the instructions of which pallets needed to be moved and to where, then started the engine and got to work.

The warehouse was a large one, and it was half full at the moment, with pallets full of identical boxes. All of them said "Waverly Water Filter System".

Mark was able to move the first two pallets perfectly, but on the third one his aim was off and both forks went right through the first boxes on the bottom of the pallet. He scrunched his face in mock pain as he quickly jumped out and glanced around self-consciously, before he walked to the forks and rearranged the boxes on the pallet so he could pull the damaged ones off of the forks.

He couldn't afford to lose this job, but if he admitted to destroying these water filters, he surely would. His first inclination was to hide the evidence in his locker until he could get rid of it. But, of course, Hardcastle's voice echoed inside his head, reminding him that he, Mark McCormick was an honest man.

It only took a moment to decide. He would hide the boxes until his break, and then decide what to do.


	2. The Problem

Ch 2 The Problem

An hour later, Mark sat alone in the dingy breakroom staring at the two water filter boxes. He'd just looked up the information on the merchandise invoice. It was hard to believe that each box was worth $3,000, but that's what the manifest had said. He couldn't believe it was correct, but he'd checked every single invoice and they all said the same thing. This whole enterprise just couldn't be legal.

He wished he could talk it over with the judge. If there was something going down, they could tackle this case together and bring these guys, whoever they were, to justice.

But, without Hardcastle, he was just a guy who was broke. A guy who needed a job and who couldn't afford to lose it, even with his second job out at the track.

The job at Saugus was working out as well as could be expected he supposed. He was a kind of jack of all trades out at the track. Some days he worked in a pit crew, other times as a mechanic, and he'd even done clean up after the track closed last week. He had thought that it would be good to be close to the action, in case he heard of anyone who needed a driver, but it hadn't worked out that way, not yet anyway. The reality was that Mark worked all day at the track and all evening at the warehouse and made enough money to pay for his rent and food, with some left over for fun, but no time to have any fun and no one to have it with either.

He also knew that if he should get seriously hurt or sick, both of his employers would give him his walking papers immediately. The reality was that, sure, he could get by without Hardcastle's help, but maybe the judge had been right about how tough it would be.

Well, one thing was for sure, he couldn't continue to work here. Whatever this was, it had to be illegal. Maybe he could convince Hardcastle to tackle this case with him. It would mean admitting to the old donkey that he'd rather live with him than on his own, but, maybe that wouldn't be too bad. After all it was true. Maybe with 3 weeks of separation behind them, Hardcastle would be willing to forgive and forget.


	3. Swallowing His Pride

"Hello," Hardcastle answered the phone in a knowing voice, expecting it to be McCormick. This time he was correct. Sure enough, it was McCormick's voice on the other end.

"Hi judge, it's me, can we talk about me coming home?" Mark began uncertainly.

It had taken a lot of effort to pick up the phone and dial. To admit he wanted to come back to the estate. He didn't know what kind of a reaction he'd get, the last words between them had been threats, stated in anger, and for all he knew, Hardcastle hadn't changed his mind.

"So, you couldn't make it on your own," the voice said with a superior and almost giddy tone. "Where should I come get you?"

McCormick paused, letting the tone sink in. It felt like the judge was looking down on him, so happy to be right, happy that Mark had failed to make it out in the "real" world.

"You still there?" the judge asked in a serious tone after too much time had passed without an answer.

"Yeah, look, maybe I need to rethink this," Mark answered quietly.

Milton Hardcastle's reaction was immediate and no nonsense, "I just told you you could come back," he said, angry at himself for his previous attitude. The kid had called him, after all, why did he always want to gloat about being right?

"I'll call you tomorrow judge, I just need to think."

"Why can't we meet somewhere and talk tonight?" Hardcastle asked.

"My shift isn't over until 11, and I'm already beat. I'll call you tomorrow."

The kid had a job. The realization hit hard. "Well, where are ya? What if I need to get ahold of ya?"

Mark paused in confusion, there was only one reason he could think of that Hardcase would need to get in touch with him, "_because the donkey's working cases without me and might need help,"_ the thoughts and images tumbled into his conscious mind.

"Don't.." he caught himself. He had no right to tell Hardcastle what to do now, and even if he did tell him, God knows the man wouldn't listen. "I don't have a phone yet. You can leave a message for me at the track...Saugus. I'm usually there at least once a day."

"Where're you stayin?"

"Look judge, my break's over, I gotta go," and he said goodbye and hung up.

H&M

Well, that was interesting, Mark thought sadly. Even though Hardcastle had seemed sincere by the end of their talk, he couldn't forget his initial response, he'd been gloating because Mark wanted to come home. Well, he wasn't going to let anyone gloat about his failures, especially when there weren't any failures to gloat about. He had a job, two of them actually. There was no reason for the judge to look down on him that way, he thought angrily.

After a moment, he stood up and headed toward the only door in the small office. It led out into the warehouse, where he resumed his work of endlessly stacking the boxes with the Waverly Water Systems logo. He had to keep the job now that he wasn't moving back to Gulls Way.


	4. Evening Shift: Somewhere in LA

Ch 4 Evening Shift

Hardcastle stared at the phone receiver in stunned silence. McCormick had called him, had asked to come home. And what had he done? Practically made fun of the fact that he'd failed. How could he have been so stupid? He couldn't blame the kid for pulling back and wanting to rethink things. Who would want to live with someone who would rub your nose in your mistakes?

He'd been wishing that Mark would call. In fact, he had hardly been able to think of anything else during the past 3 weeks. The truth was that he missed McCormick… a lot. And what had he done? He'd blown it. Maybe he'd even done irreparable damage to their relationship.

He suddenly felt defeated, and even more lonely than he'd felt during the past 3 weeks. It had surprised him, just how lonely and empty he'd felt since McCormick had moved out.

He put his hand absentmindedly over his upper abdomen and grimaced. That pain was back. It seemed to bother him every time he ate. He wondered about his decision not to eat very much, and knew that if McCormick was here, he'd be hounding him day and night to see Charlie Friedman, the family doctor.

"He thinks he can tell me what to do," he whispered to the empty room as thoughts of McCormick fluttered around in his head.

Then, it finally struck him again, that contrary to his own dire predictions, the kid had a job. That fact had put a chill around his heart. If McCormick could support himself, and spend a little time every day at the track, there was nothing to make him want to come back to yard work and the dangers of playing Tonto.

Yet, the first thing he'd said when he called was that he wanted to talk about coming home. _Talk? Did he think I wouldn't take him back? Like he needed to convince me?_ Hardcastle knew that he'd never told McCormick how much he meant to him, how special he was and that he would always take him back, but the kid should know that by now, after 18 months. Shouldn't he? He went with the kid to Atlantic City without even knowing why! That should've convinced him if nothing else did.

God, he trusted the kid with his life. There weren't too many people he could say that about.

He had assumed McCormick wouldn't be able to find work, but apparently he had. It was 7 pm, halfway through the evening shift… somewhere in LA.

He turned off the light and sat in the dark, not really caring about the Laker's game that had begun 5 minutes before.


	5. A New Job?

Ch 5 A New Job?

Early the next morning, Mark took a deep breath and hoped for the best as he walked determinedly over to the man he believed was David Waverly. He'd stopped in at the warehouse on his way to the racetrack, deciding to speak to the owner of the merchandise, instead of his boss.

"Stan, we need someone to replace him as soon as possible. Now, find me someone!" Waverly barked out to the man beside him as they walked along..

"It's not that easy David, and you know it," his partner said between clenched teeth.

"I've got all this inventory to move, and no one to convince the unsuspecting peasants to give me their money. We can't wait!"

"Excuse me, Mr. Waverly?" McCormick began as he approached.

Waverly turned when he heard his name, "Yes?" he asked suspiciously.

"My name is Mark McCormick sir, and I'm one of your employees here in the warehouse."

Waverly stared at him in confusion, "okay." The answer wasn't hostile, but it conveyed very clearly that Waverly was a very busy man and that he thought McCormick was beneath him.

Mark squared his shoulders, "I damaged two of your water filters last evening," he said quickly, suddenly glad that it was out. "It was an accident. I'm sorry sir."

Waverly narrowed his eyes, a look of disbelief on his face. He looked closer at McCormick, his eyes scanning up and down.

"Come into my office Mark and I'd like to tell you about people," he began. As they walked, Stan could hear the set up beginning. "You're an honest man Mark, and I admire that."

"You do?" McCormick answered as the office door closed behind him.

H&M

Milt stayed close to the phone all the next day, though he'd never admit that, even to himself. But there was no call. Finally, late in the day, he called the race track and left a message for Mark to call him. The pain in his stomach came and went, but was only bad enough to stop him in his tracks once, after he'd eaten at Burger Boys. He had to wait there for almost a half hour before he felt well enough to drive home.


	6. Setting A Trap

Ch 6 Setting A Trap

Three days later, Mark walked into the police station and up to the offices on the second floor. "Detective Giles?" he knocked on the officer door and stuck his head in as he spoke.

"Mark? What's up? Where's Milt?" asked the detective. He was unused to seeing one of them without the other.

"Uh," Mark stammered, "he's home." There was an uncomfortable silence before Mark explained. "I need some advice."

"I thought you asked Milt for advice?"

"Yeah, well, not at the moment. But this is police business. I've got a job and the company is doing something illegal," Mark began, and then he proceeded to explain everything he had learned about the Waverly Water Filter Systems.

Giles sat quietly and listened.

"So, this guy needs to be caught. He's paying me a hell of a lot of money to lie to innocent people so they give him their life savings and then he gives them nothing. It's not right!" Mark finished.

"Waverly is well known to us. He's done time for running pyramid schemes before. But, until there's a complaint, I can't do anything."

"But can't I do something? I'm the Regional Sales Manager for the entire West Coast. What if I wear a wire and get him to admit to what he's doing?"

"I've got a body in the morgue that was just identified as an employee of Waverly Water Filters, in fact his business card said he was the Regional Sales Manager for the West Coast."

Silence.

"Cause of death?" Mark asked worriedly.

"Car went off the road, no sign of foul play. Waverly has had employees before, and they sometimes disappear. We've never found a body before, but, we have still considered him dangerous."

"I want to do it," Mark said.

"I'd have to run it by Milt."

"Why?"

"Because he's your parole officer Mark, come on!" Giles patience was being tested.

"He doesn't need to know everything I do. Anyway, he threw me out, so I doubt if he really wants to know everything I'm doing."

"Threw you out?"

Mark shrugged and sighed. "So, we could nail this guy, you know we could."

Giles nodded. "Come back tomorrow and we can get you wired up." He paused, "and Mark, I'm gonna contact Milt. He's gonna want to be in on this, he and Waverly go way back."

"Do what you have to then," Mark said resignedly.

**H&M**

As he walked out of the station, Mark thought back over the last conversation he'd had with Hardcastle. The judge had expected him to fail, and now, the reality was that he had. He was going to get his boss arrested. He could kiss this job goodbye. The last time he'd called the judge, he'd had a paying job and Hardcastle had made fun of him. He knew he was supposed to call him back, he'd told the judge that he'd call a few days ago, but something had held him back. And now, he didn't even have a job. Now, he really did look like a loser. He couldn't call him now. If Giles had to, well, there was nothing he could do about that.


	7. Wired

Ch 7 Wired

"Of course I'll be there, thanks for letting me know," Hardcastle said and hung up the phone.

He stood there thinking for a moment before heading down to his files. Waverly could be dangerous, and although Mark would have a wire on, he wouldn't have any backup close by. That was worrisome. More than that, that had him scared.

The next morning at 6 am, Mark showed up at headquarters. He nodded at Giles and Hardcastle. He wasn't surprised to see the judge, but speaking to him would be awkward.

As they fiddled with his jacket to place the wire, he explained his schedule for the day with Waverly.

"He's used other people as shills before, and they just seem to disappear," Hardcastle finally said.

"I'll be careful."

"We're pretty sure he killed em."

"I said I'd be careful," Mark's temper flared. "Honestly, don't you think I can do anything right?"

Hardcastle was taken aback. Is that what Mark thought? Had he given that impression? Well, if he was honest with himself, maybe, a little.

"Of course you can… look, experienced cops get hurt all the time doing stuff like this…"

They stared at each other in silence. Unconsciously, Hardcastle's hand moved over his stomach.

"What's that about?" Mark asked immediately, motioning to the offending hand.

Milt looked down and moved his hand quickly, "nothing."

Mark narrowed his eyes, and heard the words again, "_where are you staying? What if I need to get a holda ya?" _ At the time, he'd thought that the judge might be working a case alone and need backup, a scary thought in itself, but one he had to let go. After all, the man had made fun of him. But what if something was wrong with the judge? What if he wanted McCormick to know something was wrong? That was an entirely different thing.

"Look, I'll get in and get him to tell me what's going on as soon as I can, and then get out. It won't take that long."

"Be careful with a guy like him," the judge said softly.

Mark nodded, "I will," and there was no animosity in his voice.


	8. Listening In

Ch 8 Listening In

"Well, are you ready for another big day?" Waverly greeted Mark as he walked into his office.

"I sure am," McCormick answered, then paused, "you know David, I know what these water filters look like. I saw what was in the packages in the warehouse."

"So?"

"Well, people are paying $3,000 for these, and let's face it, we both know there isn't $10 worth of material in each box. That means there's a lot of profit."

"Careful kiddo," Hardcastle whispered from his spot inside the building, near the rear exit. Giles had given him a listening device so he could keep tabs on McCormick. Other officers were stationed inside the building, covering each exit, but he'd felt the rear one was most likely to be used if they were going to take McCormick out of the building by force. If they were simply heading for another seminar, they would follow in unmarked vehicles.

"What're you getting at Mark?" Waverly's voice had become cold and hard.

"Well, just that, well, I know you're paying me a lot of money, but it seems to me that the better my presentation, the more people sign up, and the more money there is. So, I thought I could have a percentage, instead of a flat salary. It would be an incentive for me."

"And if I don't agree?"

"Well, maybe I'll go to the police and tell them about your little scam here."

Waverly nodded, "that's very interesting. Not very smart, but interesting."

"I could be a great partner David. It's worked great so far."

"You're right, you have convinced a lot of poor shmucks to buy my useless water filter franchise, and we have made a lot of money just in the last few weeks you've been here. Your seminars do great. But there's just one thing Mark."

"What's that?"

"Stan and me, … we work alone. Now turn around and get moving. I think you've got a date with a solid rock wall… at high speed in that beautiful new car of yours."

"There's no need for a gun David, I was just talkin, that's all, I'll keep doing the seminars for you, I don't need a percentage."

"Move. You had your chance and you blew it."

Hardcastle and Giles could hear them moving through the door.

"Where're we going?" Mark asked.

"Out the back."

Milt rubbed his stomach as he waited for them to enter the rear lobby.

"Freeze!" he yelled when he saw them enter.

Waverly immediately pulled McCormick in front of him and held the gun to his head as Milt pointed the gun at him. The tableau froze.

"Hardcastle?" Waverly said in disbelief. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Drop it, you won't get away."

"I'll kill him."

Milt lowered the gun, aware that several other officers were outside waiting for him to exit. They could pick off Waverly if they had to, but forcing the issue now would risk McCormick's life and he couldn't do that.

Waverly smirked when Hardcastle lowered the gun. "Can't win against me, can y…"

As he spoke, the position of the gun wavered and Mark saw his chance. he elbowed Waverly in the gut and pushed his gun hand to the ground. The gun was released when Mark's fist found his chin.

Stan had lunged for Hardcastle in the confusion and his first punch was hard into his stomach. It sent him down, doubled over, unable to move.

Mark looked up from his perch on Waverly and saw the judge doubled over, with Stan ready to hit him again. He tossed Waverly's gun into a potted plant and lunged for Stan as several police officers rushed into the area.

They quickly restrained Waverly and Stan as Mark turned back to the judge.


	9. Hospital Talk

Ch 9 Hospital

Fire burned in his gut and consumed him so that he couldn't get his breath. The quality of the pain was the same as he'd been having, but much, much worse. The roaring in his ears blocked out all sound, but he felt hands touching him, McCormick's hands, holding him, his voice barely getting through.

Mark knelt worriedly beside the judge. He was on his knees, holding his stomach and not answering Mark's anxious questions. Mark reached his arms around him and helped him up so he could sit on a nearby bench. "Here, sit… come on", he encouraged, his voice was shaky.

Once Hardcastle had maneuvered himself into up onto the bench, Mark could finally see his face, he was much too pale and sweating profusely.

"Judge? Talk to me, what's wrong?"

Gradually the pain eased until he could hear a voice. McCormick was saying something, but the rushing in his ears was too loud to make it out.

"What happened?" Giles asked as he approached.

"I don't know, he needs an ambulance," Mark answered, keeping his hands on his friend.

"He took a good punch in the gut," Giles offered.

"I know, it shouldn't be this bad, something's really wrong." Mark's tone sent a shiver down Giles' back.

"Judge? Can ya hear me?" Mark asked, leaning close to his ear.

"Yeah," Hardcastle tried to say.

Mark moved away from the man when the paramedics arrived. He stayed within earshot, filling in the details about the judge's medical history that he could.

Milt didn't want to go to the hospital, but in his present condition, he couldn't refuse. He really just wanted to wish this away, but the pain was so bad that even he realized it needed to be taken care of.

As they were about to load him into the ambulance, the pain subsided a bit and he glanced around to find McCormick. The kid looked worried, but just as their eyes met, the ambulance door blocked their view.

H&M

"Four weeks?" McCormick asked loudly, "you've been in pain for four weeks and you didn't think about telling me?"

Hardcastle was resting on a bed in the Emergency Room. The pain medicine he'd been given had initially put him to sleep, but he'd just woken up to find McCormick sitting on a chair beside the bed. Obviously he'd spoken to the doctor, because he knew about the pain.

"Just off and on… it was never very bad."

"Bad enough to change what you ate."

Silence.

"Did they get any test results yet?" the judge asked, changing the subject.

"No…. that's why you wanted to know how to get hold of me. It wasn't because you were working a case, it was because you thought you might end up here wasn't it?"

Hardcastle shrugged.

Silence.

"You shoulda told me judge."

"I was going to, but, …" he sighed.

They sat together in silence, until a doctor wearing a crisp white lab coat pushed aside the curtains and entered.

"I've got your test results," he began. "Can I have a word in private?" he motioned to McCormick to leave and he started to rise.

"He can stay," Hardcastle told the doctor, "I want him to know what's going on."

McCormick glanced at the doctor, then sat back down.

"You have an inflamed gallbladder and gallstones blocking the duct."

"What's the treatment?"

"We have to operate and remove it."

"Is that the only thing you can do?"

"The pain won't get better until the gallbladder comes out."

The judge paused, "well, I can't keep up like this, that's for sure."

Mark felt his palms start to sweat and his heart pounding in his chest.

"When?" Milt asked.

"Probably within the hour. As soon as we can rearrange the OR schedule," the doctor answered without hesitation.

"Why so soon?" Mark asked.

"Well, I would have preferred to do this as a non emergency procedure. This problem has been going on for the past few weeks and should've been handled then. But, after being hit so hard in the abdomen, it looks like one of the stones has perforated the duct. There's some bile leakage and that makes it an emergency. You're feeling better now because of the pain medicine, but soon, no amount of pain med will make you feel better."

Mark had stood quietly during the long speech. Now he glanced at the judge.

"Let's do it then," Hardcastle murmured, and the doctor left to make the arrangements.

There was silence then, and all of a sudden, Mark wasn't sure what to say.

"You didn't have to be there you know," he began.

"Sure I did," Hardcastle answered without a hesitation.

"What, didn't you think I could handle it?" Mark stopped immediately when he heard his angry tone of voice. This wasn't the time to argue, he chastised himself.

"I needed to make sure you had backup."

"Frank was there with 10 members of the LAPD judge."

"But, they weren't me. I needed to be sure they were doing what they were supposed to do."

Mark shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Mr. Hardcastle? The OR is almost ready. I'm going to give you an injection to get you ready for the anesthesia," said a nurse as she entered and quickly gave an injection in his right arm. "You'll be going up in a few minutes."

Mark's shoulders slumped, things were moving too fast. There was still too much between them.

Hardcastle could start to feel the effects of the medication almost immediately, and knew he would have to speak soon if he wanted to convey anything before he had the surgery.

"I'm sorry for what I said when you called," he began. "I should've said that I missed you, that was the truth, but I screwed up."

Mark's heart turned over. "I missed you too judge. Does this mean I can come home?"

The hesitation was too long.

"Judge?" Mark asked.

"Course you can…" Hardcastle said in a soft voice, slightly slurred from the medicine.

Mark stepped close to the stretcher then, and reached for the judge's hand. "I'll see you after the operation… it's gonna be okay," he whispered.

Hardcastle nodded and squeezed back.


	10. Waiting

Ch 10 Waiting

McCormick paced back and forth in the operating room waiting area. He'd heard the explanation of what was being done, and it scared him. The incision would be long and recovery slow.

"That donkey never should've put himself right into the middle of things if he didn't feel well," he muttered to himself. Yet, he realized that was just the way Hardcastle lived. If a friend was in trouble, he would put everything aside to help them. And, McCormick was his friend. He might give him a hard time about the small stuff, but when it came right down to it, the judge was the best friend he had ever had. Sure they argued, but any time you lived with someone, you were bound to get on each others nerves. Still, it never should have come to him leaving.

He sighed and glanced at his watch, it had already been two and a half hours. Then he closed his eyes and bowed his head and prayed again for the surgery to be successful and the judge to be okay.

H&M

"Mr. McCormick?" the doctor asked as he entered the waiting area.

Mark stood up immediately, "Yes."

"Things went as well as could be expected, your friend is in the recovery room now."

Mark closed his eyes to steady himself. "Thanks doc, when can I see him?"

"I'll transfer him up to the 4th floor once the anesthesia has worn off. It'll be a couple of hours yet."

H&M

So Mark was waiting in the judges room when they brought him back from recovery. He smiled at his friend as he sat beside the bed. The judge's eyes were closed but his breathing didn't seem even. The hesitation was not like the judge at all, and Mark figured he was in a fair amount of pain.

"Judge? Can you hear me?" he asked quietly.

"It was my gall bladder, not my ears. Of course I can hear you," was the immediate response, although he didn't open his eyes.

Mark pushed the call button, "you need something for pain judge."

"I'm fine."

"Listen, we've done too much arguing lately judge because you always have to be right. But this is not going to be something we argue about. I'm right this time, and I just called the nurse, and you WILL get something for pain. Do you understand?" McCormick's voice had gotten steadily more firm as he spoke.

Hardcastle opened his eyes and he stared at the kid. He was right, they HAD argued too much lately. Maybe he should give in and let the kid be right. And besides, he WAS in a lot of pain.

"Alright kiddo. Whatever you say," he whispered in a weak voice.

Mark stared at him and slowly a contented smile formed. "Now you're cookin," he whispered.

~ The End


End file.
